House Arrest Isn't So Bad
by HelleBoreHunt
Summary: Prime verse. Because this was bound to happen eventually. After the debacle with Jack, Smokescreen is confined to the base with nothing but his thoughts. A talk with Optimus brings things to light that change their relationship. Set right after Legacy, despite how late I am posting it.


**A/N: I am pretty much done with The King's Court. Sorry, I'm just not feeling it anymore.  
Anyway! This is my first Transformers fic, so expect it to be a little bad/not right. Oh well, I tried.  
Rated T for two sentient male robots making out on top of a mountain. Yup.**

Smokescreen sighed as he shuffled down the abandoned corridor. He had been wandering the base aimlessly for hours, restless. He hated that he had made Optimus upset; he had only been trying to impress him! Couldn't he see that?  
Smokescreen stopped, resetting his optics at the sudden change if light. Looking around, he realized he must have wandered outside the base. He sighed again. After the stunt with the human and nearly getting Jack injured, he had been restrained to the base until it could be decided what they were going to do with him. Smokescreen turned back to the mountain. He may not be able to drive anywhere, but he could at least sit on top of the base, right? As long as he stayed out of sight? Narrowing his optics, Smokescreen started up the rocky surface.  
When he reached the top, he walked over to the edge facing away from the road, flopping his legs over the side and sitting down. He leaned back on his servos, observing the desert before him. No one on the base would know, but he was a lot more mature than he let on. He knew how to fight, and how to pick his fights. But what was the point of being so serious all the time? What was the point of life if you weren't going to throw caution to the wind sometimes and live to the fullest? He lay back, resting his servos over his chest plate, and staring at the sky above him. Somewhere, in the very same stratosphere he was watching now, the Cons were flying in their warship, plotting. Smokescreen offlined his optics, placing one of his servos over them.  
"I am such a screw up." He mumbled.  
"Is that what you truly believe?"  
Smokescreen onlined his optics, jumping to attention. "Optimus Prime sir!"  
The red and blue mech looked down at him. "Stand easy, Smokescreen. I wish to talk to you, not from commander to subordinate, but from friend to friend."  
Smokescreen nodded, sitting and dangling his legs over the mountain again. "Do you really consider us friends?" He asked as Optimus sat beside him.  
Optimus nodded. "I do. Do you?"  
Smokescreen looked at him. _I'd like to be more._ His mind whispered. "You have to ask?" He replied aloud, grin spreading across his face, partly by default. It was always easier to plaster on a smile and run with it for him.  
Optimus frowned. "I have learned, through time and experience, to not judge people by the facade they put on the outside."  
Smokescreen's smile fell. He knew enough stories to know what Optimus was thinking. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "I can't really relate to what that exactly feels like, but I can relate to hurt in general." He added with a vague wave of his servo.  
Optimus looked at him, his expression unreadable. "Smokescreen..."  
Oh, if that didn't just rattle Smokescreen's plating. "Yea?"  
Optimus seemed to pause, choosing his words. "Is there... are the others treating you well?"  
Smokescreen shuttered his optics. "Um. Well." He paused, thinking. "They're still a little hostile. Arcee more than most, especially after what happened with Jack. It's to be expected though."  
Optimus looked out into the desert thoughtful. "Give them time. They will warm up eventually."  
Smokescreen chuckled. "Even Ratchet?"  
Optimus smiled. "Ratchet... has his own way of showing he cares."  
Smokescreen laughed, smiling broadly. "Isn't that the truth?" He said, laughter petering out. They fell into a comfortable silence, looking out onto the reds and oranges of the desert. After a while, Smokescreen sighed.  
"Optimus, I'm sorry."  
Optimus shuttered his optics, looking at Smokescreen. "For what?"  
"For... for messing up so much. I just... I want to do so good." _I want you to see the good in me._ "I try so hard," _So you'll notice me_' "but end up failing every time." _So you can help me get back up._ "I'm so sorry." _That I love you._  
Smokescreen frowned. Did he really love Optimus? Could he really be in love with a mech he had only known personally for a couple of weeks? Smokescreen looked over at Optimus, and his breath caught in his throat.  
Optimus was looking at him, a soft, proud yet concerned look on his face. Oh yes, Smokescreen thought, he could fall in love with that.  
"Smokescreen. While I respect that you feel the need to apologize, I cannot accept it. You have nothing to apologize for."  
"Optimus, I-"  
"You will not sway me, Smokescreen." Optimus cast his gaze into the desert. "I was, long ago, young as you are. I remember what it is like."  
"Optimus, sir." Smokescreen started, turning to Optimus and resting a servo on his upper arm to get his attention. "That is no excuse. We are at war. Mistakes are unaffordable."  
Optimus stared at him. After a moment of silence, he placed his servo over Smokescreen's. "While that may be true, it would be an even graver mistake to lose our hope or part of ourselves. For you to lose your youth would cost us more than for you to keep it."  
Smokescreen sighed. "I have a hard time believing that."  
"I know." Optimus said. "One day you won't though."  
Smokescreen nodded. It was then that he noticed the servo that had curled around his. He looked down, staring at the joined servos. Optimus turned his head, looking at their joined servos as well. Slowly, he moved his servo, entwining their fingers. Smokescreen swallowed, shivering a little.  
"Smokescreen." Optimus said. "Look at me."  
Smokescreen couldn't move. He was frozen, too many thoughts swirling in his head. Optimus moved slowly, taking his free servo and tilting Smokescreen's face up. "Smokescreen."  
"Optimus I-" Smokescreen cut himself off. He couldn't say it; he didn't know what damage it would do.  
"Smokescreen. It is okay. Speak your mind. I will not judge you."  
Smokescreen jerked his face from Optimus' servo. "I... I can't. I'm sorry."  
Optimus nodded. "It is okay. You do not have to say anything."  
Smokescreen jerked his head up. He knew. He_ knew._ "Optimus."  
"It is okay, Smokescreen. It is okay."  
Smokescreen jerked as lips suddenly pressed to his. Of all the things he had expected, it had not been _this._ He shuddered, offlining his optics and moving his lips against his leader's. He felt Optimus wrap an arm around his back, stroking over the plating beneath his doorwings. It felt good; _really_ good.  
They pulled apart, both panting a little. Smokescreen licked his lower lip, shivering as Optimus mimicked the movement.  
"Optimus..." Smokescreen winced at how breathy his voice sounded. "How... how long..."  
"Long enough to know the truth and depth to your feelings."  
Smokescreen lowered his head, hyperaware of how Optimus still had his arm around him, stroking his slowly heating plating, and how his other servo was gently rubbing circles in his hip. He shivered, leaning into to the hand on his back.  
"Optimus, I think I love you." Smokescreen whispered.  
Optimus smiled at him. "I know. And I share your feelings." He gently pressed his lips against Smokescreen's cheek plate. "However, I insist that we take things slow. For both of our sakes."  
Smokescreen nodded. "I'm okay with that." He sighed, shuffling over so that their sides were touching. He leaned into Optimus, offlining his optics. Optimus smiled down at him, readjusting his arm so that it wound around his shoulders. He grabbed Smokescreen's servo in his, pressing a kiss to it before letting them fall between them. Smokescreen smiled. This was nice. Sitting on the mountain, quiet, watching the Earth sun set with the mech he held closest. Maybe being confined to the base wasn't so bad after all.


End file.
